


Müllerian Mimicry

by kolvina



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:41:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22673464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kolvina/pseuds/kolvina
Summary: Jerome and Jeremiah had a plan. Break into Wayne Enterprises and steal tech they needed to rule the criminal underworld. Really, it should have been quite an easy plan, one with no complications in sight.Enter Bruce Wayne.AKA the heist fic that absolutely no one asked for.
Relationships: Jeremiah Valeska/Bruce Wayne, Jerome Valeska/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 15
Kudos: 113





	1. One

**PROLOGUE** **  
**  
The Valeska twins were inseparable. The whole thing was funny, really. They had begun their life as a single fertilized egg, before it split in two. It was comical because the two halves of them, in essence, from the very beginning, made a whole. Even as the years passed, and they began growing into two _very_ different people, they didn’t know what they would do without each other. They were each other’s support system, each other’s each other’s best friend, each other’s, well... brother. 

Growing up, the way they did, where they did.. if they didn’t have each other, things probably wouldn’t have ended well. Hell, they didn’t end well regardless. They grew up in survival mode, and their only companions in the war were each other. Two boys seemingly against the entire world. 

Long story short, after years and years of abuse, forced to live in the circus, a life not suited for growing children, growing into teenagers, growing into adults, the twins planned to escape. They planned to kill their mother. Which, in script, maybe sounds extreme, but taking into consideration _everything_ that had happened.. it sometimes almost didn’t even seem like _enough._

  
“It’s simple,” Jeremiah had told Jerome when the idea was first presented, calm as can be, a direct opposition to his younger twin who was shaking with adrenaline, foot tapping on the dirt ground causing some dust to fly up, “We end it. We run. We hide. We make a new life.”  
  
It wasn’t that simple. It was _murder_ . It was becoming criminals. It was becoming fugitives. It was the idea of forever running away. Yet, it was... _still_ , a simple decision. Because at the end of the day, the idea of forever running away easily prevailed to the idea of forever running in place.

With Jerome’s vision, and Jeremiah’s smarts, they crafted a plan. First, they erased all evidence they existed, every trace they had from the circus. It wasn’t like their mother had put them into the system at all, no birth records, and after a few pictures burned there was nothing left of them besides spoken words.  
  
Then, all they had to do was kill her and run. So, that is simply what they did. They killed her. 

Well, Jeremiah actually did. A week earlier than planned, too. They were stopped in the outskirts of Gotham, a regular visit for Haly’s Circus when Lila began to lash out. She had been drinking, of course, as usual, and decided that throwing things and smacking Jerome around was what she wanted to spend her free time doing. Jeremiah had been gone when it started, he liked reading books outside at night under the lights of the circus tents, it was peaceful, so unlike the hostile environment of their trailer. What was not peaceful, however, was getting back in their home to see Jerome on the ground, blood gushing from his nose, holding his side in pain while Lila hovered over him with a metal pole used by the advanced jugglers.  
  
Jeremiah had this thing he did. He was always a decently sensitive guy, able to share emotions pretty well. He cried when he was upset. He smiled when he was happy. He screamed when he was mad. You could pretty much always tell when he was upset, or if he was annoyed, he didn’t really ever try to cover his emotions. But sometimes, when he was so angry, or so upset, his emotions completely turned off. He would become cold, almost as if him feeling so much made him completely shut down, “like some kind of robot” Jerome would say, “‘S actually kinda scary, Miah. Well, more like creepy, heh.”  
  
This was one of those moments. In complete silence he, calmly, simply, walked over to Lila, pulling out a blade he always kept in his back pocket, and stabbed her directly in the heart, no hesitation whatsoever.  
  
None of them were expecting it. Not Jerome who watched in shock, certainly not Lila who stared back at him in horror, and not even Jeremiah. Because a moment after he did it, after she fell to the ground, he fell to the ground too, right on his knees, hovering above her fallen body. He dropped the knife, the bright silver blade now drenched in dark blood, and the clanking of it on the wooden floor sounded loud in the otherwise silent trailer. 

  
It was a weird feeling, Jerome remembered, watching their mom die. They planned it (well, not exactly like that, but _still_ ). They _wanted_ it to happen. Yet it was… odd. Jerome remembers feeling numb, it was like an out of body experience as they watched the life drain out of her, then moved her body and staged it as a cult attack. They didn’t talk at all while doing it. Nor did they interact at all. They just followed the plan they had. 

It was only after they were in a cab, the circus lights dwindling further away, that Jerome put his hand on Jeremiah’s shoulder. A small but powerful gesture, letting him know that they were in this together. 

Jeremiah didn’t say anything to him, he just looked at Jerome. He didn’t smile. He didn’t frown. He just looked at him blankly. Maybe he felt as numb as Jerome did. 

And that numb feeling that Jerome felt that night… it never really went away. He wonders if Jeremiah still felt it too.  
  
They ended up in Gotham, as originally planned. _Hide in plain sight_. That was the idea. It was a city so full to the brim of criminals that no one would notice two younger twins who would try to stay mostly, or at least for a while, out of trouble. They had already acquired enough money to stay in a dingy motel for a few nights, and then buy a sketchy but fixable bunker on the outskirts of town. Jeremiah had been selling architectural build ideas and other fancy stuff that Jerome never understood under an alias long before they left the circus, garnering enough money for them to be set for quite a long while. 

Jerome also contributed to their funds, he committed petty crimes. Picking enough wallets and robbing enough small joints to also add to their riches.

Their plan was good. It was smart. It was damn near perfect. It really would’ve been perfect, if they hadn’t improvised. If Jeremiah hadn’t killed their mom a week early.  
  
Leaving a week too soon made them scramble quite a bit. After they went off script they had forgotten to double check the trailer to make sure they hadn’t left anything behind. It was their only mistake.  
  
Not enough to prosecute but enough to reasonably suspect, definitely circumstantial evidence, maybe even enough to convict if tried right way, but they were ghosts in the wind, even when a BOLO was put out, no one saw them. And a single murder years later in Gotham was completely brushed aside and forgotten, bigger fish to fry and all that, so the Valeska twins were out of the minds of Jim Gordon and his partner Harvey Bullock a mere week after it had happened.  
  
Unbeknownst to the twins, they left three items behind.

  
Two simple notes in correspondence, reading in elegant cursive print;

  
“ _You left your lighter on the bench by Grayson’s tent again. Here it is. Also, i’m hoping to finish the novel I am reading before next week, it is about getting away with.. well, you know what. I’ll be out by the main tents reading tonight if you need me._ _  
__\- J”_

 _  
_And the second in scrappy print;  
 _  
__“Nerd. Also, thanks. ‘M gonna be out too so you might be back before me. Heh._ _  
__\- What does that J even stand for, Miah? Jester? Ha. If so, I want to be J!_

 _You can be J #2. Together, we can both be theeeeee Jesters! We would be a great duo circus act, broski!”_ _  
_  
The notes were stored safely in a book, that was on the ground under a table where the two detectives assumed the crime must have taken place.

  
Harvey Bullock remembers holding the book as him and Jim stared at the otherwise spotless trailer, he knew that it was a dead end, yet still kept the notes in the cold case file they had. It could be used as evidence against the twins if they ever were caught.

At the end of the day, it was just another unsolved case for the Gotham Police Department.

**ONE**   
  


As time passed, some things got easier, and some got harder. That was life. And life for the Valeksa twins was never perfect. Although the paranoia of the GCPD finding them for their mom’s murder slowly subsides within a year, which is a relief off both of their backs. Their bunker gets renovated and becomes their home. Jeremiah sells even more architectural blueprints, and Jerome picks more wallets than he can count. 

Time passes. Things don’t change much. So, of course. Jerome got bored. Jeremiah got antsy. They needed something more. Maybe growing up with the constant excitement of the circus had ruined them, made them unable to live regular lives. 

And so, they thought of an idea. A way to bring excitement into their lives, doing something that they want to do. Neither of the boys kept up much with the news of the city. It was always regularly the same, just a new criminal of the week wreaking havoc and the GCPD trying to take them down. But Jeremiah did read the technology section of the newspaper almost every day, like the nerd he was.

And one day there was something that peaked his interest. Hell, it even peaked Jerome’s interest. 

**Wayne Enterprises Exosuits:** **_More protection than bulletproof vests, an invention toward the greater good of the GCPD and Gotham as a whole._ **

“‘Rome look at this!” Jeremiah had excitedly interrupted Jerome’s morning pancake voyage, shaking the article in his face. 

“Kevlar suits paired with modified gadgets… this could mean such amazing things for the greater good! Just imagine the possibilities!” 

_For the greater good_. Jerome scoffed at that.

“Yeah, or for whatever criminal steals them first,” Jerome replied. That is what always happens with fancy tech that was supposed to ‘help’ people. It was always used for the opposite. 

It was like a sitcom thing in the next moment. Both the twins heads snapped towards each other, just staring at each other. Jerome dropped his fork with part of his pancake on it. 

Jerome never believed in twin telepathy, but at that moment they both thought the same thing, and at the same moment they said out loud,

“We gotta steal that tech!” 

The plan was clear cut, a few main steps they needed to follow:  
  
Befriend someone from Wayne Enterprises to access. Steal the new Wayne Tech Exosuits and any other tech that can be weaponized. Use that to gain a name for themselves in the city.

Gotham was the city of criminals. And they were technically already outlaws. Why not live as kings like Maroni or Falcone used to? It could be fun! It was exciting! It, in all honesty, was probably a terrible idea, the odds were not in their favor, and that just made them want it _more._  
  


It didn’t take long to craft a decent scheme. Mostly considering there was a Wayne Enterprises and Donors Ball coming up. 

Jeremiah, with ease, made Jerome a fake entrance pass to the Ball. He was always much better at detailed work, always dotting all the I’s and crossing all the T’s. For their plan, Jerome would go in - he was much better at improvisation than his brother, although Jeremiah wasn’t bad himself. The big events like this made him antsy though, whereas Jerome felt more comfortable in a large group of people.  
  
“Listen, ‘Rome, be careful,” Jeremiah says as they go over the plan one last time. Jeremiah is harshly grasping onto his arm as he speaks, his twin’s blunt nails slightly digging into his skin, showcasing just how nervous he really was.  
  
“I will be, don’t sweat it,” Jerome reassures, allowing Jeremiah to grasp onto his arm for a little while longer before he drops it with a deep sigh, “You need to stop worrying, ‘Miah. Our plan will work. We got this, broski.”  
  


They had gotten away with murder. How hard could this be?

Jeremiah, reluctantly, lets Jerome borrow one of his suits. Making small comments about how Jerome better not spill anything on it _or else_. He smacks Jerome’s hands away when he tries to do his own hair, and puts some awful gel in it that makes him pout. He even tries to put makeup on Jerome before Jerome decides he has had enough and he’s out the door. 

The plan goes on pretty easily after that. Jerome drives himself to the venue, making sure to leave his car a few blocks away so no one could potentially tracks him. Then, he walks in confidently, showing the bouncer his entrance pass. The bouncer looks over it scrutinizingly, and Jerome feels his heart pounding just a little bit faster but then the bouncer ushering him to go in. 

From there, all he has to do is one thing. Make a friend. Be his charismatic self, get someone to trust him so they could eventually lead him into Wayne Enterprises to the exosuits, so he can steal them. Piece of cake. 

Why not just break in and steal the suits? Why go through the trouble of getting someone to willingly bring him in?

Well, Wayne Enterprises was the fortress of Gotham security. Security checkpoints on every floor. Key cards. Locks. Thumb print check ins. Guards stationed everywhere. It was damn near _impossible_ for someone to steal from there. Stealing from there was basically unheard of, except for an instance or two where an employee has stolen something. And it wasn’t like Wayne Enterprises would hire either of the Valeskas. Sure, they would hire Jeremiah, if it wasn’t due to the fact that they did heavy background checks on every single employee. A background check that could potentially lead to them realizing that he is in fact wanted by the GCPD for murder if they found anything, probably. 

Funny thing about this: there was a reason why the Valeskas were most likely to get away with this heist despite all of this.

And it was due to the fact that Jeremiah _did (_ kind of) work for Wayne Enterprises before. Before they left the circus, under his alias, he had digitally sent in schematics for the Wayne Enterprises building once he heard they were rebuilding to make it bigger. He didn’t expect a reply, or anything of the sort, yet he still received one. He received one from Thomas Wayne himself. Wayne had loved the design so much he wanted to hire ‘Xander’. Jeremiah quickly came up with a lie, telling Wayne he had a severe case of agoraphobia and couldn’t work for Wayne Enterprises. Jeremiah was also barely fifteen at the time, and he had a feeling that the CEO wouldn’t want a young kid working for him anyways.

Nonetheless, Wayne still used his schematics for the building and paid him a pretty cent for it. He would always try to email Jeremiah after that but Jeremiah never responded. He had a feeling that Thomas Wayne knew something was off about him, but the thing is, now he was _dead_ and therefore, the whole thing was a nonissue. 

He was dead and Jeremiah had the blueprints of the entire building. Him and Jerome knew _where_ everything was. Knew where every camera would be, where every exit is.

So, the plan was, they get in. There was no way to get in unless you could bypass all the security measures unless someone takes you through. But after you were in, you don’t need to bypass any system to _leave_. Escape was easy, getting in was the hard part. 

Jerome analyzed the ballroom as he strode around, taking note of any potential targets. He recognized a few people around, one of them being Captain James Gordon who he steered clear from, and Aubrey James. There were a few people he thought could potentially befriend. A younger girl who was sitting at the bar, she looked like she didn’t know anyone here, so alas maybe she wanted a friend. A nerdy man who was wearing a green suit out of all things, he probably needed more friends. And a shy woman who looked like she would rather be anywhere than there, standing away from all the action.

Jerome continued to scope out the area for a while before he grabbed a champagne flute from a waiter nearby and sauntered over to the girl at the bar.

“Not interested,” The girl immediately said as he sat down. Not even bothering to look up at his dazzling grin. He realized as he got closer that she wasn’t wearing a fancy outfit like everyone else. No, she was wearing leather pants and a leather jacket, paired with big messy curls and a scowl on her face. She was nursing a glass of what looked like hard liquor. Jerome looked at his champagne flute sadly. 

“You didn’t even look at me,” Jerome tells her, a bit amused. She shrugs her shoulders lightly. 

“Yeah, and I’m still not interested,” She continues sipping her drink. Jerome likes her, he decides. 

“Fair enough,” Jerome replies, about to begin scanning the room for a new candidate. Sure, a challenge was fun but Jerome didn’t want Miah’s head exploding. At least not yet. His comment actually makes her look up at him, eyeing him up and down,her eyes full of suspicion. “Ya aren’t havin’ second thoughts, are ya?” He asks with a wink.

“God you’re obnoxious,” She has no problem telling him, disdain written on her face. 

“I was jokin’,” He replies, uncaring, “And you’re a bit catty, though that is funny too.” 

She snorts at that, and raises her glass at him as a sarcastic cheers. Jerome grins and is about to start talking again before she turns her back to the bar, seemingly looking for something or someone. He moves his body too, curious, and quickly notices Oswald Cobblepot, aka The Penguin, is in attendance, and he’s standing very close next to someone surprising.

“Is that Oswald Cobblepot and Jim Gordon talking?” Jerome asks out loud, they seemed a bit _too_ cozy. He knows the two must have had some kind of past together considering the small amount of news he saw about the two, but this seemed to be...

“They have some kind of agreement,” The girl interrupts his thoughts. He wonders how she would even know that, he’s intrigued but decides against asking. He’s got an actual job to do tonight, not spend the night getting gossip on the Captain of the GCPD . 

He continues looking at them, and Gordon laughs at something Cobblepot says, putting a hand on the criminal’s shoulder as he does so. 

“By agreement do you mean they sleep with each other?” Jerome questions. She chokes on her drink and laughs before quickly composing herself. He raises an eyebrow at her.

“Don’t get any ideas. I still don’t like you,” She warns him.

“Never said ya did, Curls,” He responds and the girl scowls at him. Clearly she won't be giving him anything he needs. He decides that he’s going to talk to the nerdy man once he’s further away from Jim Gordon. He wanted to stay off the detective’s radar. 

“What brings you here?” He decides to ask, not liking the silence. 

“I promised someone I’d show up for a while, and I told him that once someone tries to talk to me here that I’m leaving so,” quickly the girl downs all of her drink, taking no time to stand up, and pats his chest a bit roughly, likely as retaliation for the Curls comment. “Bye,” He chuckles under his breath as he watches her depart.

“That went well,” Jerome sarcastically says to himself as he watches the girl duck out the exit. “She even moves like a cat,” he mutters to himself, searching for the nerdy guy.   
  


However, he was no longer alone, he seemed to know Gordon and Cobblepot, now talking to both of them.

The woman he had seen earlier is nowhere to be seen and Jerome can't help but scoff at all the boring old people wandering about. The night was moving slowly, and Jerome wasn’t a fan of slow, so he decides to have some fun. 

Jerome is an opportunist, and he would truly be a fool _not_ to steal from a few of the rich people in the room.

He gets a pretty good score, swiping seven wallets before he finally spots the woman. He begins to walk up to her but someone blocks him, standing directly in his way. 

He looks up to see that one of the most attractive men he has ever laid eyes on is suddenly standing in front of him. Dressed in an all black suit with deep red accents, along with dark curly locks and a certain charming glint in his eye, Jerome was instantly enticed. You didn’t see someone who looked like _that_ everyday.

  
“I’m Bruce Wayne,” The boy was introducing himself, his hand held out to Jerome, who was trying his hardest not to let his jaw drop. Because of _course. Of course._

  
This was definitely not supposed to happen. Running into the CEO of the company you were planning to rob? That has to be number one in the _What Not To Do On a Grand Heist_ handbook.  
  
Bruce looked different from he did in pictures, but Jerome suspects it’s because the kid wasn’t in the public eye much. Hell, he definitely wasn’t a kid anymore, only four years shy of Jerome’s twenty four.  
  
“You do realize ya don’t have to introduce yourself, right? This is a ball for your company, everyone knows who you are,” Jerome finds himself replying, not even putting thought into it, hoping that the billionaire doesn’t take offense of his sass.  
  
Bruce, surprisingly, snorts at his words, “Still, I don’t know who you are. I would remember if I saw you around. So, I introduced myself. It’s the polite thing to do.”  
  
“Oh?” Now that was a bit of an interesting statement, “Why’s that, kid?”  
  
“Not a kid,” Bruce duly comments almost on command, but Jerome notices the slight tick in his jaw. “I just meant you are quite recognizable. Plus, there aren’t many people here younger than age sixty, if you haven’t noticed.”  
  
“Fair point, Brucie,” Jerome replies, watching as the boy narrows his eyes a little bit at the nickname.  
  
“And also, I have watched you lift four wallets in the past hour,” Bruce states, before Jerome can even continue, “So I’m assuming you don’t work for Wayne Enterprises at all. Probably a bored street criminal thinking he’ll get a good score. Must be pretty smart to be able to get in here, though. Security is decently tight.”  
  
Yeah, he was screwed. Miah was gonna kill him for sure.  
  
“Okay great, kid. What are ya gonna do? Turn me in?” Jerome scoffs looking for the nearest exit if he needs to make a run for it.  
  
“No,” Bruce looks amused by Jerome’s offensive stance, “I was gonna ask if you wanted to leave the main room and have a drink with me.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Like I told you before. There is no one here my age. It’s _exhausting_ . If I have to have one more conversation about Wayne Enterprises stocks, I may revoke my own position as CEO,” Bruce says with a small smile. And oh my god, the kid is joking. He’s _joking_ around, with _Jerome_ , who he thinks is a common _street criminal_ ?  
  
Jerome is shocked, to say the least,  
but on the other hand if ANYONE could get him in to see the exo suits, it _is_ Bruce. It would be easier to try and persuade someone around his own age, this honestly did seem like the better option despite it being the more dangerous one. Bruce Wayne had power in this city, if he figures out what Jerome and Jeremiah are trying to do, it wouldn’t be like when they killed their mom in the circus. The GCPD wouldn’t just throw away the case, marking it unsolved. No, they would come after the Valeska’s for targeting the golden boy of the city. This was risky. 

Then again, Jerome always liked risky.   
  
“Sure,” Jerome smirks at the raven haired boy, who smiles back at him, “Lead the way, kid.”  
  
-  
  
He shouldn’t be surprised when Bruce leads him out of the ballroom, into a private room where two guards are standing. Of course he actually had some kind of private room. He owned the whole building. He shoos them away, telling them something but all Jerome catches are the words “busy”, “later” and the name “Alfred”, whoever the hell that was.  
  
Bruce instantly goes to the drink cart when they enter the door, not even bothering to ask Jerome what he wants, just pouring Jerome whatever he’s making for himself too.  
  
“Y’know, I didn’t think my night would end with me drinking with Bruce Wayne, mostly after I was robbing his event,” Jerome breaks the silence, playing the street robber angle that Bruce so kindly provided him with. Bruce laughs at the comment as he finishes up the beverages.  
  
“And I thought everyone here would be boring, so we both are surprised,” Bruce comments, and Jerome isn’t quite sure what to think of it. The room is filled with silence again, the only sound being Bruce topping off the alcohol. 

“Are you gonna tell me your name?” Bruce asks as he walks over and hands Jerome a drink. He sits fairly close to Jerome too, for just having met him. 

Jerome takes a sip of the drink before humming appreciatively, it’s good. Unlike the champagne outside Bruce had hard liquor, vodka, much more Jerome’s style.

“Jay,” Jerome informs him of the fake name after a moment of deliberation. It was close enough to his real name that it would grab his attention, not a stupid fake name like _Xander Wilde_ that made no sense. 

“Hmm. Jay,” Bruce rolls over, as if he were testing the name on his tongue, “That suits you.”

“Speaking of suits, yours is,” Jerome takes a minute to rake his eyes over Bruce, knowing the boy is watching him do so, “wonderful.”

The boy doesn’t blush like Jerome thought he would. He doesn’t shyly reply or try to change the subject. The _innocent repressed Billionaire boy_ image that everyone had of Bruce Wayne slowly begins to fade away in Jerome’s eyes, because he does back what Jerome did to him, assertively looking him up and down before he confidently says, “You look wonderful too.” 

“You probably stole that suit though, didn’t you?” Bruce says with a small smile that tells Jerome he meant no offense, “That’s quite a nice suit for someone who picks wallets for a living.”

“Would it bother you if I told ya yes?” Jerome asks. Technically he didn’t steal the suit, Jeremiah did. Speaking of Jeremiah, the _plan._ He needed to get Bruce to trust him, maybe presenting himself as a criminal wasn’t the best idea, and yet…

“Not really,” Bruce admits and Jerome almost blanches. Was the golden boy of the city corrupt? That didn’t seem right.

“Really? No offense, but crime doesn’t really seem like your forte,” Jerome tells him earnestly, intrigued. 

“It’s not,” Bruce shrugs, “But I get why some people have to. It’s a corrupt city. Most people that are stealing need to do it to survive. I have a friend that has been stealing since we were kids because she didn’t have a place to come home to or money that she inherited. Circumstances are different for everyone. This city needs to change, but while it’s doing so I think it is only fair to cut the people who are just trying to survive some slack.” 

“Wow, Brucie,” Jerome draws out, it was a touching sentiment, really. The kid was a bleeding heart, something he could definitely use to his advantage, “You could run for mayor with that speech. Ya know, if Penguin could win then so could you.” 

Bruce laughs at that, and shakes his head in a reminiscing way, “I forgot that Oswald was mayor for a while.” 

“Do you know him?” Jerome asks. Penguin was someone that him and Jeremiah were thinking of using in their criminal endeavors. He seemed easy to manipulate, always ruled by emotions. 

“He was the mayor and I’m the lead figurehead of this city,” Bruce reminds him, but then lightly pauses before he trails off, “Although he actually saved my life once. Him and his rocket launcher.”

“Okay, kid. You gotta tell me that story,” Jerome laughs. Why didn’t Vicky Vale ever report on stories like that? Maybe if she did he would actually read the paper.

“I’m not drunk enough too,” Bruce says as he sips his drink. Jerome decides not to press.  
  
“Do you have a lot of criminal friends?” Jerome inquiries instead.  
  
Bruce merely shrugs, which Jerome narrows his eyes at. The kid was obviously moral, all for justice, yet lived in the grey area. Almost like Robin Hood. He seemed like the type that would steal from the bad only if he could give it to the good. 

“If you’re trying to ask if I consider Oswald Cobblepot a friend, the answer is no. Although I don’t regard him as the _worst_ criminal in the city. He does some good along with the bad he does.” 

Bruce was smart too. Physically, he looked his age, almost twenty one. Mentally though, it almost seemed like he was wiser than most people twice his age. He probably did have to grow up pretty fast considering what happened to his parents when he was a kid.  
  
“I gotta tell ya, Brucie, you’re much more interesting than I thought you’d be,” Jerome tells him honestly as he takes another swig.

“I would say the same back, but I know from the moment I saw you that you would be interesting,” Bruce replies, his voice an octave deeper than it was a moment ago. Jerome looks at him. He really looks at him. Bruce’s right hand is on his drink, but his left is on the couch, closer to Jerome. His eyes are on Jerome’s face, pupils slightly dilated. His bottom lip is a little red, a little damp, as if he had bitten it earlier. 

Jerome knows how to read body language well, and the body language that Bruce is sending him isn’t subtle at all. 

That’s it. He found his angle. He knows what Bruce wants from him, and he will grasp it and twist, use it to his advantage, and of course…. he’ll have a little fun along the way. 

Jerome gets close to his face, close to his lips. Close enough that he can feel Bruce’s hot breath pandering on his face. Close enough that he can hear Bruce suck in a deep breath and hold it. Instead of kissing him, he moves his head so his lips are close to his ear. 

  
“You want me to do it, don’t you?” Jerome whispers in his ear. He can feel Bruce tense beneath him, he knows the kid is at the edge of his seat. He knows he got him. 

Like a fish on a reel, Jerome draws him in. Bruce doesn’t even realize that the hook is piercing him. 

“Uh, sorry to interrupt Mr. Wayne,” One of the guards barrels into the room, blushing at the slightly compromising position the two of them were in. Jerome backs away, sitting back in his place on the couch a small distance away from the billionaire. 

“What is it?” Bruce asks him, a small blush finally painting his cheeks. _Adorable_ , Jerome thinks.

“A few of the guests have noticed their wallets have gone missing. It appears we have a thief at this ball,” The guard tells Bruce, nervously looking at Jerome, obviously knowing that it must be him. 

Jerome snorts. Loudly. Bruce lightly hits his shoulder as a way to tell him to shut up.

“Thank you for informing me, Alfred. I will be out soon to address the issue,” Bruce tells him, gesturing for the man to leave the room. Oh, so this was the Alfred that was mentioned.

“Are you sure you want me to..” The guard hesitates, still eyeing Jerome suspiciously, and Jerome is trying his hardest not to break into laughter, he really is. The old guy looks so serious. 

“Yes, I’m sure. You can go,” Bruce commands rather than tells. Alfred still hesitates, but eventually closes the door, leaving the pair alone. As soon as the door is closed Jerome breaks into giggles, unable to help himself.

“Jay,” Bruce scolds, unimpressed. 

“Bruce, seriously! Jeeves almost just came in here and kicked my ass! You have to admit that was hilarious. Why did you hire a senior citizen as your bodyguard?”

“He’s not my bodyguard, he’s my butler,” Bruce corrects him, his lips in a thin line. 

“He’s your-...” Jerome trails off before breaking into another fit of laughter. 

He can see that Bruce is slightly cracking at the seams. A small smile appearing on his lips because of Jerome’s antics. 

“You’re awful,” Bruce tells him, but he’s gently laughing as he shakes his head.

“Yet you’re still laughing,” Jerome remarks, and Bruce still just shakes his head, deciding not to comment. 

“Well, that is certainly my cue to go,” Jerome announces as he stands up, “I probably shouldn’t go back in there. No one in there will recognize me and they would know I’m the thief. Not to mention your… butler… suspects me. Would you mind if..” Jerome gestures with his hand toward the window, grateful that they were on the ground floor so his escape was a bit easier. 

“Go ahead,” Bruce tells him as he stands up too, walking with him to the window.  
  
“Am I gonna see you again?” Bruce asks as he watches Jerome easily crack the lock that kept the window shut. Most windows in Gotham were kept locked considering the amount of criminals infesting the city.  
  
“‘Course, Brucie,” Jerome says, not even really thinking of the plan, “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”  
  


With a wink at the younger boy, he jumps out the window, and disappears into the night. 


	2. Two

**TWO** **  
  
**

It’s past midnight by the time Jerome makes it back to the bunker. The sound of the woods surrounding his home is loud, not as loud as the city, sure, but loud in its own way. There are frogs croaking in the distance along with an owl hooting overhead and the bristling of trees dancing in the wind. The air is cool, just a light breeze flowing softly across the atmosphere, lightly pinching his skin. It’s one of those nights that makes Jerome want to stay out and just walk, walk until he finds something to do, just for the fun of it. Just because he  _ can. _ It’s one of those nights where everything seems to be exactly where it should be, one of those nights where he just feels  _ good.  _ One of those nights where everything seems okay.

Maybe he feels that way because of meeting Bruce Wayne, he realizes. The  _ rush _ of meeting him, of interacting with him, of getting to know him. Jerome was ecstatic to delve further into the heist, of course, but his excitement no longer stemmed from getting the exosuits, no, it stemmed from getting to see Bruce Wayne again.

There is a certain serenity to his thoughts and the night that makes Jerome pause before entering the front door. 

Of course, this peacefulness is immediately interrupted when he enters the house, because Jeremiah is on him the second he steps a foot through the door. 

  
“Did it work? Did you find someone? How did it go? You better have not ruined my suit,” Miah asks a bit frantically, pushing his glasses from the bridge of his nose in a nervous manner. 

  
“Yes, I got an in,” Jerome informs him as he takes off the jacket of the suit, leaving him in only his white button up and suit pants, handing it to Jeremiah who takes it readily. He kicks off his dress shoes too before he begins to walk.    
  
“Really?” Jeremiah questions as he follows Jerome closely into the kitchen, “Are you sure the person has enough access to the building?”    
  
Jerome snorts at this comment as he opens the pantry, taking out his box of skittles, “Yeah, more than enough access.”   
  
“What?” Jeremiah asks.    
  
“You won’t believe me if I told ya,” Jerome merely replied, setting the few wallets he obtained on the table.    
  
Jeremiah didn’t respond, but looked at Jerome in a way that Jerome had recognized after living with the guy all his life. His signature bitch face. He wanted to know who.    
  
“Bruce Wayne,” Jerome tells him casually as he pops a skittle in his mouth.    
  
“You’re joking.”    
  
“I told you that you wouldn’t believe me,” Jerome comments back. Jeremiah stares at him, and for a split second Jerome thinks his twin might actually _ not _ kill him, but then he explodes.    
  
“What are you thinking?!” He yelps at Jerome, pushing him slightly against the kitchen island. 

“Aw hey man, watch the skittles!” Jerome yelps back, watching as a few of his stray candies fall to the floor.  _ Fallen soldiers _ , Jerome thinks,  _ I salute you. _

“Jerome! Seriously!” Jeremiah is still bitching and Jerome rolls his eyes. 

“Calm down and let me explain, yeah?” Jerome hurriedly says so Jeremiah doesn’t try to push him again, “Let’s go sit down.”

Jeremiah pouts at him but walks to the couch with Jerome, taking a seat beside him. 

  
“He’s young and stupid,” Jerome said although wasn’t entirely sure he believed that statement. Bruce wasn’t stupid in the least bit, being able to notice Jerome picking wallets and all. The kid was clever, and clearly quick witted from the conversations they had, “And he has all the access. Really, he’s the best choice.”

“This is a bad idea,” Jeremiah has that obnoxious expression again. The same one he had when Jerome first proposed that they live in Gotham after they kill their mom. The  _ I’m smarter than you and I should be making all the plans  _ bitch face, as Jerome liked to call it. 

  
“You say that about all my ideas!” Jerome counters, flopping dramatically down onto the couch to look up at the ceiling instead of ‘Miah. 

  
“They are all bad,” Jeremiah immediately responds, causing Jerome to lightly chortle.

  
“Well, ya do learn more from failures than successes…”

  
“Wow. You must be a genius by now then,” Jeremiah replies without hesitation, and Jerome doesn’t have to look at him to know that Jeremiah is rolling his eyes now. 

“Oh. Wow. Nerd’s got jokes tonight, huh?” Jerome responds, but this time Jeremiah doesn’t. He waits a moment before he pulls himself up to find that Jeremiah has a pensive look on his face. He looks genuinely worried. He always was. Ever since that night with their mom... 

“Seriously, it’s fine, ‘Miah. I got this.  _ We  _ got this,” Jerome tells him earnestly, because he knows they can do it. He isn’t certain about much, but he is certain of this, “We have our in. We have our plan. We’ll get the exosuits and whatever else we can find. We’ll make a name for ourselves in the city.”

Jeremiah at first doesn’t respond, he seems to mull over what Jerome said before he nods lightly. 

“Speaking of our plan, come here,” Jeremiah says, standing up from where they were sitting to begin to walk towards his office. Jerome obliges.

Jeremiah is going through his files as Jerome sits on the wheeled chair. Jeremiah sends him a small glare when Jerome accidentally kicks him from spinning to hard to which Jerome just smiles brightly.

“I’ve been going through all the Arkham files while you were gone,” Just like Miah to always stay busy, Jerome thinks.

“Did’ja already figure out who we are gonna recruit?” Jerome asks lazily, leaning against Jeremiah’s overcrowded desk filled with an ungodly amount of blueprints to God knows what. Jeremiah doesn’t even look up from what he’s doing, he just hands Jerome a file folder from the pile. 

**_Jervis Tetch_ **

It reads in fine print. Huh.  _ Interesting name _ , Jerome thinks. He opens the folder to see a picture of the man. He looks a bit eccentric, a huge top hat with a sly smile. His looks and his name isn’t the most interesting thing about him though, no, it’s what is written below his picture. The reason why he ended up in Arkham at all:

**_Always regard patient as armed and dangerous. Patient has the ability to hypnotize with a single word. Keep in solitary with guards unable to hear him to avoid confrontation. Threat level high._ **

Jerome is intrigued, sure, but as he goes through the file further he sees that the guy lacks the pizzazz he was looking for. Sure, he could hypnotize people, but where was the wow factor?

Jeremiah hands him another folder.

**_Jane Doe_ **

**_Alias: Ecco_ **

**_(Real name unknown)_ **

Jerome already knows who she is. The entire city did. She had been in the group the Maniax as their leader, she was charismatic and ruthless. A good choice for the team. But also a dangerous one. She seemed to have no loyalty whatsoever, as well as a big mouth that could spoil their plans, but Jerome assumes that if Jeremiah was ballsy enough to even consider her for the team, he must have a plan that would keep her shackled down to them. 

“Is that all of them?” Jerome asks, kind of disappointed. When they talked about making a team he at least thought there would be more recruits than just two.

“Unless you want someone who is deranged to the point where we are bound to get killed, yeah, that’s all of them,” Jeremiah says. Jerome pouts in response, and continues going through the files despite Jeremiah’s small eye roll. He almost loses hope and agrees with ‘Miah’s statement until he finds something most intriguing.

**_Jonathon Crane_ **

**_Jonathon_** **_was exposed to a toxin that forces him to see his worst fear. He now makes that same toxin and forces others to see what they fear too. Patient is dangerous but not a high level threat, seems almost content in Arkham lifestyle._**

“Him,” Jerome states matter-of-factly. 

“Didn’t you see the pictures? He’s crazy, he wears a potato sack on his head, Jerome,” Jeremiah doesn’t seem amused to the slightest.

“As if you have any room to talk about fashion,” Jerome quips, “and that Jervis guy wears paper mache top hats, everyone has their quirks. Plus, the guy is insanely smart. It says it all over his records.”

“We don’t need him.”

“You didn’t read his whole file?” Jerome asks and Jeremiah shrugs and says, “I kind of stopped at the potato sack.”

“ _ Patient seems to have an accelerated learning pace. Proficient in lessons. The only thing deterring him in advancing to further stages of progress is his unique relationship with fellow inmate Jervis Tetch,” _ Jerome reads. 

“You think because we have Tetch, Crane will just willingly follow?” Jeremiah asks, leaning toward Jerome in the slightest. He was obviously intrigued. 

“People do crazy things for love,” Jerome tells him, and Jeremiah just blinks. 

“You’re suggesting…”

“Come on Jeremiah, seriously?  _ Unique _ relationship?” Jerome questions. Jeremiah just shrugs.

“Wow, you really need to go out more,” Jerome lets out a piercing laugh. At the thought of relationship, Bruce pops into his head, which is odd. He passes it off as just him thinking of the mission. Of course he had to establish a relationship with him, that was what he needed to do so they could get into Wayne Enterprises.

Jeremiah scoffs at Jerome, before grabbing Jonathan’s folder out of Jerome’s hands, and placing it upon the pile with Ecco and Tetch’s, “Anyways, Jervis will definitely come in handy with the hypnotizing if any employees at Wayne Enterprises find us sneaking in when we do, and Ecco will be able to cause a fantastic diversion, not to mention her mass following of cultists.”

“And Crane’s the brain,” Jerome declared, leaning towards Jeremiah. “Unless you’re too scared of the competition.” 

Jeremiah seems offended by that statement, to which Jerome just rolls his eyes, “I’m just jokin', I know you’re the brains, sweetheart.”

“I really hate you,” Jeremiah deadpans, looking over Crane’s file again, his frown even larger than before. “I’ll look into it, there could be some use for a chemist if things don’t work out with the others.” 

Jerome pumped his fist in the air, as if Jeremiah had just gifted him a million bucks. “That wasn’t so hard was it, Miah?”

Jeremiah said nothing, going back to all of his paperwork, no longer willing to entertain Jerome. So, it was going to be one of those nights. Well, Jerome had some thinking to do of his own, after all charming the billionaire wasn’t gonna be the easiest of tasks, mostly considering he seemed to be a bit of a wildcard. He fell asleep that night to thoughts of Bruce Wayne.

The days pass on, Jeremiah mostly stays to himself, working on their plans and doing whatever it is he does when he locks himself in his room.

Jerome picks his lock whenever he gets bored or whenever he makes some food, Jeremiah had a habit of getting so into his work that he would forget to eat. 

Jeremiah always gets angry at him for the lock picking, but thanks him for the food before he goes back to work. 

Jerome spends some of his nights doing his own planning. Over the time he had been in Gotham, he had made a decent network of criminals. Lots of them were petty thefts or street vagrants who had little to no use, but Jerome still kept up with them, they could prove to be useful eventually, and they never were boring, that was for sure.

For the most part, Jerome does nothing. He mostly just waits. He hates waiting. That’s why he is so happy to go to the kitchen for breakfast almost a week later to find Jeremiah sitting there, drinking a mug of fresh coffee.

“Coffee’s on the pot,” Jeremiah tells him when he sees him. Jerome gratefully nods, grabbing himself a mug as well.

“So, when are we doin’ the great ol’ prison break?” Jerome decides to ask him. 

“I don’t know, Rome, when are you finally gonna go talk to Bruce Wayne, which is what our entire plan is weighing upon?” 

Jerome snorts at his sour tone, “I can’t mysteriously run into him immediately after meeting him. I have to let it fester for a while, like an opened wound.”

“That is a horrible analogy,” Jeremiah tells him in disgust, before continuing onto Jerome’s earlier question, “I sent off letters to Ecco, Crane, and Tetch. I was waiting to hear a response before we break them out. I got one this morning. We have a meeting tonight with a Maniax leader.” 

“We could always just break them out anyways, they would probably be ecstatic to get out,” Jerome says. He’s bored sitting and waiting around. A prison break sounds fun right now. 

“Yeah, but what's the point of doing it unless we know for sure that they are on our side?”

“Hmm. Fair,” Jerome says, “What is it that you even said in those letters? How are you convincing them to join our crusade?”

“I found their weak spots. Gave them offers they couldn’t refuse,” Jeremiah shrugs,

“I did, however, write them in code so the guards don’t throw them out. It appears that Crane figured out the code and helped the other two out.”

“See! I told you he’d be helpful!” Jerome smiles, to which Jeremiah seems annoyed by. He never liked it when Jerome was right.

“If all goes well, the Asylum break could be happening in the next week,” Jeremiah informs him, to which Jerome just nods. Jerome knew most of the plan already. Jeremiah had hacked into Arkham’s security system months ago. He was going to release all prisoners from their cells manually, and while they caused a ruckus, their three new teammates would escape. Jerome thought the entire idea was hilarious, and he was excited to meet everyone. The thought of it had him shaking in anticipation.

“Awesome,” Jerome replied, deciding he was hungry. The whole talk of organized crime really had him craving some cereal.

“Although our plan will be pointless if you don’t see Wayne again soon. Which, it looks like you aren’t,” Jeremiah pointed out. Jerome rolled his eyes but Miah couldn’t see because he was grabbing the milk from the fridge. He sets the milk down to grab his spoon. 

“Can you not make judgey comments while I’m trying to enjoy a bowl of Froot Loops? It’s a turn off,” Jerome scoffs at him, holding his spoon out toward him. 

“Can you not just do as you’re supposed to?” Jeremiah retorts, casually taking another sip of his coffee. Little bastard. 

“I liked you better when you locked yourself in your room,” Jerome tells him as he aggressively takes a bite of his cereal, “anyways, it’s not like I can just go take a stroll in the Narrows and find him. He’s Bruce Wayne.”

“He gets off work every Friday at seven,” Jeremiah tells him, causing Jerome to snort.

“Dude, how do you even know these things?”

“I was able to break through his assistant's firewalls, I have his entire calendar,” Jeremiah shrugs, as if that isn’t creepy at all, “Go find him after work.”

“If this is such a concern why don’t you just do it yourself? We look enough alike that he wouldn’t know the difference.” 

“The concern is why you’re stalling,” Jeremiah is staring directly at him. Doing that thing that makes Jerome feel like he can see right through him. Why was he stalling? He subconsciously knew he was doing it, but why? It wasn’t like him to be nervous about a job, mostly one that relied on his natural charm, but for some reason this felt different. Maybe because the score was so big. 

“Not stalling, sweetheart, just having fun spending time with my dear old brother,” Jerome says with a sweet smile. 

“I’ve told you before not to call me that. And fine, if you aren’t stalling then see him tonight before we meet with the Maniax at 1 am,” Jeremiah tells him as he begins to get up, “You know where to find him.” 

And with that, he leaves the kitchen, leaving Jerome alone with his Chocolate Lucky Charms. He knows Jeremiah is right. He finishes eating his breakfast before he stalks off to his room, muttering under his breathe,  _ stupid Miah with his stupid plans..  _

“I can hear you!” Miah calls out from his room. On second thought, Jerome was excited to leave the house and get away from Jeremiah for a while. 

—

He decides to ride his motorcycle to Wayne Enterprises. It’s easier to tail someone on one rather than a car. Jeremiah raises an eyebrow at him when he takes the motorcycle keys, but decides to leave his judgement to himself.

“Be back before 12:30,” Jeremiah tells him, and Jerome gives him a cut off smile. 

“Whatever you say, honey!” He calls back, and the glimpse he catches of Miah’s affronted expression is enough to make Jerome cackle as he walks out the door.

It doesn’t take Jerome long to spot Bruce after he gets to Wayne Enterprises. 

He sees Alfred, his butler (which was still hilarious to Jerome, by the way), pick him up. They go across the city, Jerome barely able to keep up yet stay hidden on his motorcycle. Jerome is quite frankly alarmed when they end up stopping at the GCPD out of all places

It isn’t long after Bruce is in there that he walks out again, this time not alone, but with Jim Gordon next to him and Alfred. Jim is saying something and Bruce is nodding. 

Of course, Jerome was aware that Bruce was somewhat friends with Captain Gordon, but he didn’t know that he spent his free time with the guy. Their conversation doesn’t last long, they part ways fairly quickly and Bruce goes back into the car with Jeeves.

Jerome turns on his motorcycle again. 

They drive for a while, but Bruce soon gets dropped off on some random street in the Narrows. Jerome is even more surprised than he was about Bruce stopping at the GCPD. What was the kid doing?

Jerome quickly parks his motorcycle in a place where he knows no one will steal it, and sets out on foot to follow Bruce. 

Bruce is just walking around aimlessly, it seems. Jerome just follows. They go up and down the alleyways, Bruce even does some impressive parkour moves jumping fences and going up to certain roofs. 

He eventually does stop on a roof, Jerome hiding behind a small wall atop it too.

“Are you gonna come out or just continue following me?” Bruce says loudly, and Jerome blinks in surprise.

“I noticed a shadow a couple of blocks back, you really aren’t the best at tailing someone, are you?”  _ I’ve actually been following you for the past two hours _ , Jerome wants to tell him, but he refrains. What was the kid even doing anyways? Provoking a random stalker at night in the Narrows? It was like he had a death wish. Jerome knows it’s now or never. He steps out from behind the wall.

“Heya Brucie,” Jerome says with a smirk, “Fancy meetin’ ya here.”

“Jay?” Bruce seems very surprised by his presence.

“What? Were ya expectin’ someone else?” Jerome asks, curious. Who could Bruce be meeting here?

“Considering the last couple of nights I’ve been here I’ve only seen muggers I’d say yes, I was,” Bruce tells him, “It’s good to see you, Jay.”

Why would he be roaming the streets of the Narrows the past couple of nights? Sure the kid was a bit eccentric and after his little speech in the backroom sounded like the type of bleeding heart to throw money at anyone with a sad story, but something still didn’t add up. No need to be lurking about late at night without his nanny’s supervision. Unless...

“Have ya been lookin’ for me, Brucie?” Jerome asks with a smile, pleasantly surprised by this chain of events. Bruce looks a bit sheepish at his words, almost a bit embarrassed. Jerome can’t help it. He begins to laugh.

“It’s not like you left me a phone number to call you!” Bruce defends himself, and Jerome just continues laughing. Oh, this kid was too easy. 

“Well, here I am,” Jerome tells him, and Bruce takes a step closer to him. Jerome raises an eyebrow.

“So, why have ya been lookin’ for me?” Jerome decides to ask, to which Bruce just shrugs and states simply, “I wanted to see you again.”

“Well.. it's late, it’s not like we can go frolic around a park, at least not on this side of town,” Jerome remarks. 

Bruce frowned slightly, as if he hadn’t actually planned what he wanted to do once he managed to find Jerome. Maybe he thought that he wouldn’t ever even find him.

He looks deep in thought, jaw clenched slightly as he tries to form a plan. Jerome finds it amusing but also he’s impatient, he wants to see what’s next. 

“We could..” Bruce trails off, a small furrow in his brow. Jerome snorts, he looks like a broody vampire flick reject, with his dark curly hair and dramatic expression, looming on a rooftop in the dark.

Bruce never finishes his sentence, seemingly weighing his decisions on what he should say.

“Spit it out kid, I don’t have all night. I got places to be, wallets to steal…”

“Come back to my place with me,” Bruce states simply. 

“You’re inviting me over to your place?” This kid was clearly deranged. He barely knew Jerome. Why would he let him into his house? 

“It’s been a long time since someone has interested me as much as you have,” Bruce states earnestly, and Jerome can’t really disagree about that statement, as much as he would love to, “And it’s been a long week at Wayne Enterprises of meetings and paperwork, I could use the company of someone who isn’t boring.”

“Are you forgetting that I’m a criminal you barely know?” Jerome can’t help but ask.

“Definitely not forgetting,” Bruce says, as he begins to walk to the fire escape of the roof, “You coming or what?”

Jerome laughs. He really thought that his mission would be boring, yet it was turning out everything but. The thrill of being around Bruce Wayne hadn’t stopped, it was only growing stronger. 

  
  


—

  
  


It isn’t hard to sneak Jay into the manor. Alfred was already sleeping, and it wasn’t like the house was small enough for Alfred to wake up from hearing them walking to the kitchen nor hear them talking. Mostly considering the kitchen was practically in the polar opposite direction of Alfred’s room all the way across the manor. Jay walks slowly in behind Bruce, occasionally making small comments about the decor of the manor. He seems a bit in awe, not at all used to the prestige of the old home. 

Bruce honestly doesn’t know what he’s doing. But there was just  _ something _ about Jay. 

He always had a hard time opening up to people. Being around people twice his age that only cared about business and money wasn’t the best environment to make friends in. Of course he had Alfred, and Jim and Harvey, but it was different with them. Alfred mostly just was concerned with Bruce’s safety, more of a parental figure than friend. And Jim and Harvey were too involved with police business most of the time, it wasn’t like him and Jim spent many days just hanging out together unless there was a crime they were trying to solve together. Same goes for Harvey.

He did have Selina. It was nice having someone around his age to speak to, that was for sure. He spent a decent amount of time with her, but still, even with her, there was sometimes a disconnect. They were very different people, and she hadn’t been spending as much time around him ever since they stopped having feelings for each other. 

The whole ‘relationship’ (if you could even call it that) thing blew up on them. They hit roadblock after roadblock, until they finally just decided they were better off as friends. 

Anyways, she always did tell him he had to make more friends. Although, picking up a street criminal who he knew nothing about (but God did he know he looked fantastic in a suit), probably isn’t what she meant.

“How do ya not get lost in here?” Jay asks him as they enter the kitchen. He looks different than he did the first day they met. He isn’t wearing a fancy suit, he’s wearing plaid pants and a t shirt. It seemed to fit him much more than his previous style. He doesn’t hesitate before he sits up on a bar stool, watching Bruce as he pulls out a decanter of bourbon.

“I actually used to as a kid,” Bruce tells him, a bit reminiscent, “There were a couple of times where I had gotten so lost that my mom would have to come and find me.”

It’s not often that Bruce mentions his parents, but the memories come tumbling out of his mouth quicker than he can stop them. Jay doesn’t reply at first, he just looks at Bruce as he pours them glasses.

“You two were close?” Jay finally asks, taking a sip after Bruce hands him the drink. 

Bruce solemnly nods in response, to which Jay hmms in response. 

“Well, if it makes ya feel any better, we’re in the same boat,” Jay tells him, to which Bruce blinks in surprise. He wasn’t expecting Jay to be so candid with such a touchy subject.

“You lost your parents?” Bruce asks, and Jay takes a large gulp of his alcohol, and that’s an answer enough. 

“Like I said, same boat,” Jay states again. 

Bruce felt for him. He did. Jay seemed like Selina, born in the rough streets of Gotham, only doing things he had to to survive. Bruce doesn’t respond quick enough, causing Jay to clap his hands together. It echoes in the quiet room. 

“Right, well, lets not let that ruin our night!” Jay speaks out, his dazzling grin back again, charming as always, “Tell me, how was your day today, anything fun besides roaming the streets?”

Bruce shrugs, it was a regular day at Wayne Enterprises. Although, he did get to see Jim. Jim had called him into the GCPD because he was on edge about word spreading that the Maniax were planning something. Bruce wasn’t as worried. After Ecco was finally caught and put in Arkham, the Maniax stopped committing crime like they had before. Jim of course was worried, same goes for Alfred. The Maniax had always made him their main target, Ecco in particular had tried to personally murder him on multiple occasions. Well, technically, Theo Galavan was the reason why Ecco initially tried to murder him, and for whatever reason she just decided she loved that idea. 

Jim had told him it might be smart to leave town until the rumors blew over, but Bruce didn’t see the harm. They were just rumors. If he left every time there were rumors he would no longer live in Gotham. Besides, he had thwarted Ecco before, it wasn’t as if he couldn’t do it again. 

“There’s talk that the Maniax are making a comeback,” Bruce decides to tell him. Jay was a criminal. He could possibly have insight on the situation, “The GCPD thinks I should leave town.” 

“Really?” Jay seems skeptical. Bruce nods. 

“Aren’t they just a bunch of idiots who just aimlessly follow a leader?” Jay rhetorically asks, “Who are they gonna be following now? Their leader isn’t exactly in a position to be giving orders currently.”

Bruce was glad that at least someone agreed. 

“I wouldn’t be too worried if I were ya,” Jay then states, his expression turning a bit wild, “who would want to hurt a pretty little thing like ya?”

Listen, despite popular opinion, Bruce wasn’t a prude. Yet the general media always put him out to be. They said he was the shy, sheltered billionaire boy, who was a lonely bachelor. They didn’t really know him. After his parents died, he joined Selina on the streets a lot of nights. He grew up in the streets of the Narrows as much as he did in his million dollar manor. He wasn’t sheltered at all, he grew up quick, quicker than most kids his age. He wasn’t a prude by any means. He had sex, mostly just one night flings of people he met at clubs, nothing meaningful, but still, sex was sex.

He had always had an interest in men as well as women. He had quite a repertoire, fitting more of the playboy billionaire bill rather than the loner one. But the thing was, no one ever openly flirted with him the way Jay did. Most people were just in it for the sex. Maybe just in it to say that they had sex with Bruce Wayne himself (though people probably wouldn’t believe them, considering his angelic reputation). None of them had the same passion in their voices as Jay, as if he truly meant the words, looking at Bruce as if he would swallow him whole. 

It makes Bruce blush. He can’t help it. Of course Jay notices.

Jay begins to cackle, loudly, to which Bruce tries to shush him so he doesn’t wake up Alfred, but mostly to just shut him up because it really isn’t  _ that _ funny. 

“I complimented ya before, why are ya suddenly shy?” Jay asks, a smirk on his face, “is it the word pretty?”

Bruce isn’t actually sure if it is. It’s not like he has ever been called that before. He only has been called the casual hot or sometimes cute, but never pretty. 

“Interesting,” Jay says, “How about the word gorgeous, gorgeous?” Jay leans in as he speaks, his smirk so big. Bruce wants to wipe the smirk off his face. Instead he says,

“You’re kind of obnoxious, Jay.”

Jay laughs at this. Bruce joins in after a while too. They are in this state of weird companionship, where even though they barely know each other, they have an odd sort of comfort in each other’s company. Bruce leads them to the study so they can sit on the couch as they talk, but Jay doesn’t sit. He immediately gets distracted by everything in the room. The books, the old knickknacks, and most notably, the piles of criminal files atop the table in the room.

“What are these?” Jay breaks the silent. He’s holding a new case file that Alfred must have left him, courtesy of Jim Gordon. Jim had wanted him to read up on the recent Maniax sightings. Jay doesn’t even wait for Bruce to respond before he opens it.

“I help the GCPD with cases,” Bruce shrugs, trying to keep it casual, seeing as this could definitely look bad considering Jay was a criminal himself. Jay just hums in response. He is flipping through the file then suddenly stops. He looks engrossed in whatever is in the files. Bruce moves closer to him, aiming to look over Jay’s shoulder to see what has caught the man’s attention, Jay seems the type to bounce from one thing to another in a matter of seconds. Maybe he could even impress Jay a little with his knowledge on the case. 

Before Bruce can see what it is, Jay snaps the file shut, and turns around so they are face to face, only inches apart. Bruce can smell a faint scent of cinnamon radiating off of him. He can see his freckles from up close, painting his skin across his cheeks and nose. Bruce takes in a deep breath when he sees the wicked smirk on Jay’s face.

-

Jerome was fucked. Jerome was so, majorly _fucked_. Listen, things were going good. Beyond good. Brucie had been looking for him, Jerome’s plan had worked, he had also been eyeing Jerome like he was fresh meat the entire time since they were in the manor. The kid even goddamn blushed, he had it bad. 

But then, of course, there’s the fucking case file. The case file that says, “ _there has been talk that the Maniax have a new associate, as well as Wayne Enterprises being a potential target for an attack_ ”. 

That wasn’t supposed to get out. Jeremiah and Jerome knew it was a possibility, considering they were inviting Ecco to their crusade and she notoriously had a big mouth, but Jerome didn’t expect it to get out so soon. If Bruce saw this, he might up security at his company, and potentially ruin their entire plans. He could not let Bruce see it. 

Of course, Bruce is right behind him, beginning to look over Jerome’s shoulder. Jerome slams the case file onto the table, hoping he isn’t being obvious, and swiftly turns to face Bruce. He stares at Bruce for a few moments, wonderin’ if the kid was gonna say anything. He doesn’t. Jerome smirks. Bruce takes a deep breath. Got him. 

If there is one consistent thing about Jerome Valeska, it is that he never wastes any time in regards to doing things he wants to do. So, he grabs Bruce by the neck and pulls him in, smashing their mouths together. 

Bruce makes a small  _ mmph _ noise, probably a bit surprised by how forward Jerome was being. Good. It would distract him from the case file. Jerome needed to get his hands on that paper and make it disappear before the kid ever saw it. Bruce does something that surprises him, he pushes Jerome back onto the desk, and looms over him. Jerome laughs into the kiss, which just makes Bruce tower over him more. Kid had panache. Jerome takes it as his cue to grab Bruce by the waist, and pull him on top of himself. They stay like that, lazily making out. Jerome bites Bruce’s lip a few times, and even lets his lips travel down to his neck. He sucks down roughly, causing Bruce to moan in response. The sound is like music to Jerome’s ears, a modern day Ode to Joy. Most men groan instead of moan, but the noises Bruce made were different. They were downright pornographic. Of course, he gives Bruce another hickey on the other side of his neck, just so he can hear the noises again. Jerome felt like he was losing his mind a bit, getting completely lost in Bruce Wayne. He isn’t quite sure how much time passes, but when Bruce finally lifts himself off Jerome, his lips are bright red and swollen, matching the hickies on his neck. His usually perfect curls are now sloppy on his head. But god, he looks even more gorgeous than before. 

“Ugh, I am going to have to hide these somehow. I have a press meet at Wayne Enterprises in two days,” Bruce tells him, rubbing his neck lightly on the twin hickies, “I don’t even know how. I have never had to cover one before.”

Jerome chuckles at him, letting his fingers run through the boy’s curls, “Really? Never gotten a hickey before?”

“Not since I was fifteen. I usually tell the people I am with not to leave any marks,” Bruce informs him.  _ Usually _ . Interesting.

“Oh?” Jerome questions with a smile. Bruce bites his bottom lip a little at his question, as if he didn’t want to respond. Jerome really wasn’t sure what Bruce saw in him, why the boy seemed to be so engrossed in him. 

“Usually,” Bruce just says again, this time with a small smile. It’s a sweet sentiment, really. Would’ve probably made Jerome feel guilty if he were so inclined. But alas, the mission still had to come first. Bruce wasn’t his friend, nor lover, he was his target. 

“Well, ya definitely seemed to like it, Brucie,” Jerome tells him, to which Bruce scoffs. 

“Ever the romantic, Jay,” Bruce tells him, “We’ll see how much you like it. Next time.”

Jerome smirks at that. The kid was getting more forward. 

“Next time?” Jerome says to him, finally moving his hand from the boy’s curls to cup his jaw, “you’re adorable.”

Bruce huffs in response, pretending that he didn’t enjoy that comment, but still there is a smile on his face.

“Speaking of the time, I should probably go,” Jerome says as he draws away. Bruce doesn’t try to stop him this time, he only pouts a little. Which was adorable, truly. The kid was somethin’ else.

Jerome smiles at him, no longer a smirk, and walks to the window, opening it. 

“You can just go through the front door,” Bruce tells him, but Jerome just gives him an unamused look.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Will I see you again?” Bruce asks, hopeful. 

“This conversation and window jumping feels oddly familiar, Brucie.”

“Tomorrow then,” Bruce blurts out despite himself. 

“Really kid? You just can’t stay away, can you?” Jerome isn’t bothered though, amusement clear in his voice. Bruce just smiles. 

“I’ll find you this time,” Jerome tells him with a wink, then he’s out the window, into the cold night.

It isn't until he is already back to the Narrows that he realizes that he didn't take the paper from the case file with him. 


	3. Three

**THREE**

Jerome has a stupid smile on his face the entire time he walks to the Narrows to retrieve his motorcycle and drive back home to the bunker, sure a stupid smile wasn’t uncommon for him but this time was a little different, (although Jerome decided to ignore that fact.)

His smile does slightly falter at the fact that he forgot to take the paper from the case file out of Bruce’s possession, and it falters even more when he makes it back to the bunker.

Jeremiah definitely doesn’t have a smile on his face either. Jeremiah was annoyed, visibly annoyed. Jerome was notoriously tardy, but clearly a whole hour was too much for the elder twin to handle.

Jeremiah didn’t even give Jerome time to explain when he showed up to the bunker, he just told him to get into the car because they had to go,  _ iMmEdiAtEly _ . 

“Are ya gonna let me explain or are you just gonna angrily sit there the whole time?” Jerome asked him as he jittered in the passenger seat. He actually wasn’t going to explain much to his brother. He most certainly wasn’t gonna tell him that he messed up their plan a little bit because of the kid because he got distracted, nor was he going to tell him about the way the kids mouth tasted like caramel and coffee. There were some things better left unsaid. Basically, the less Jeremiah knew, the better. 

Jeremiah doesn’t respond, and Jerome hates the silence.

-

Jeremiah hates the silence. He wanted to yell at Jerome for potentially ruining their plans. They were up and coming criminals. They needed to be on time for their commitments. Their plans weighed on a timely schedule, they could not be late.

“Brucie and I got carried away. Besides, shouldn’t that be a good thing? I’m supposed to be gettin’ on his good side,” Jerome breaks the silence finally, noticing Jeremiah is still seething. 

“ _ Brucie? _ ” Jeremiah questions the nickname, to which Jerome visibly straightens. Hmm. Interesting. It wasn’t like Jerome to get nervous. There was something he was hiding, clearly. 

“The kid doesn’t like the name so I call him that,” Jerome states casually, and Jeremiah knows that he is leaving something out, but Jerome speaks too quickly before Jeremiah can question him. 

“What exactly are we doin’ again?” Jerome asks quickly. Jeremiah sighs. 

“Ecco got back to us. She set up a meet up with the head of the Maniax. The one that is running things while she is preoccupied in Arkham. I’m assuming he will give us their answers as to if they will actually accept our offer. If they do, the breakout happens tomorrow.” 

“Fun,” Jerome merely responds, and Jeremiah rolls his eyes. They really needed better communication. 

-

Jeremiah really needed better communication, Jerome thinks. He needed to include Jerome into more of his actual plans instead of just telling him what to do whenever he decided he needed to. 

“What’s with that?” Jerome points to the mask in the backseat. It was an elegant looking one, a bit on the masquerade style. Jerome could tell that Jeremiah picked it out. Always one for classic dramatics. 

“It’s for you,” Jeremiah tells him simply, as if that explained things.

“Excuse me,” Jerome says, blinking at his brother, “What?”

Jeremiah sighs again, as if he’s annoyed he has to let Jerome know things. He really did often act like twin telepathy was real, and that Jerome could just read his every thought.

“We cannot let people know who we are. The less they know, the better. We don’t know if they even accepted our offer, and if they do, we can only let people we know in on our secrets,” Jeremiah snappily responds. He was always paranoid. Of course he would make Jerome wear a dumb mask. 

“So that means you’re not gonna join me in talkin’ to em,” Jerome clarifies, and Jeremiah’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. 

“It’s unnecessary,” He says to Jerome. Now Jeremiah isn’t the only twin who was annoyed.

“Listen, ‘Miah,” He says, aggressive enough that Jeremiah glances over at him for a split second, taking his eyes off the road, “We are in this together. You don’t make all the decisions, ya gotta tell me about things. Ya know I don’t follow rules well, and I will not take orders from ya.” 

“Can we discuss this later? We’re here,” Jeremiah tells him, pulling up to an empty parking lot near the south side of Gotham. He intentionally parked in the shadows, in a place where he wouldn’t be seen. 

There was a man standing on the far end of the parking lot, standing next to a van with a few vagrants hanging out near it. They were the Maniax, it was clear as day from their crazy hair and face paint. 

“Take this,” Jeremiah says to him, grabbing the mask from the back seat, as well as an earpiece, “I want to hear what they have to say.” 

“You could always just come out for yourself, listen to what they gotta say. You can wear the mask,” Jerome suggests with a smile, but Jeremiah just glares at him. He was so boring. He hated being on the frontlines. He made Jerome do all the dirty work (well, besides the whole killing their mom thing, but that was different).

“We will discuss this later. We are already late,” Jeremiah says to him. Jerome loses his grin, and takes the mask and ear piece, equipping himself and leaving the car before Jeremiah says another word.

He saunters up to the group of Maniax, pep in his step. This is where the fun begins.

“Jester, I presume?” The man asks him as he walks up, and Jerome falters for a second. He didn’t realize that was the name Jeremiah chose. That is what they used to call themselves when they were in the circus, when they were young and dreamed of having their own circus show. The twin jesters. A quick pang of nostalgia hits Jerome (the smell of the circus -- hot dogs and kettle corn -- the taste of cotton candy melting on his tongue, going on the rides until he puked, him and Jeremiah getting into trouble that resulted in laughs and not violence) but the nostalgia leaves just as quick as it comes. 

The group of Maniax are now silently, no longer rowdy, they are just staring directly at Jerome. Good. They always loved a show, and Jerome will put on a grand one.

“Yes, a pleasure!” Jerome says, bowing down in a flashy manner. When he looks back up the man is smiling at him.

“I’m Dwight,” The man introduces. He’s an older fella, black hair and weirdly enough he had the whole ‘buisness man’ look to him rather than maniac. 

“Ask him about if they accepted the offer,” Jeremiah immediately says in his ear. Jerome ignores him. Jeremiah wouldn’t know charisma if it shot him in the face. 

“Beautiful name, darlin!” He says loudly, causing the man to blush lightly. No one could ever resist Jerome’s charms.

“They’ve accepted your offer,” Dwight tells Jerome, a creepy smile on his face. Jerome smiles, even though the man can’t see it.

“Fantastic,” He replies. 

“Ask him about the other part of the deal,” Jeremiah whispers through the ear piece. Jerome hesitates, he didn’t know about a different part. What the hell was Jeremiah talking about? Why did he leave out so many damn details?

“And? How about the other part of the deal?”

“Already done. Speaking of, we should leave now. The GCPD will be coming to this side of town very soon,” Dwight tells him. 

“Yes Jerome, leave,” Jeremiah tells him.

Jerome isn’t sure what the hell is going on, but nonetheless, he laughs and bows. The Maniax laugh with him, joining in on his cackle. Dwight’s smile grows, and he watches as Jerome disappears back into the shadows.

Jerome is pissed.

“What the hell was that?” Jerome asks as he joins Jeremiah in the car, his charisma gone, replaced with calculating rage, “What other part of the deal?”

“I wanted to make sure I can trust Ecco so I wanted a good show of faith,” Jeremiah merely tells Jerome, continuing to drive home. Jerome tries to ask Jeremiah what the absolute living hell that means, but Jeremiah just says  _ we'll see _ , and leaves it at that. 

Jerome silently seethes in his seat (just like Jeremiah had done on the way there) knowing Jeremiah would not hesitate to throw him out of his car if he yelled at him. But the moment they step into the house, he slams Jeremiah against the wall, his forearm against his brother’s throat roughly. 

“Again, I’m going to ask you, what the hell was that?” 

“Can’t really talk with your arm against my throat,” Jeremiah chokes out, and Jerome narrows his eyes at him, debating on if he should let the bastard go, but he eventually does.

“I would’ve told you the plan if you came back at 12:30 like you were supposed to,” Jeremiah of course is blaming it on him. Classic. Jeremiah walks past him, wandering to the kitchen to pull out his alcohol and pour some into a glass, not even offering Jerome any. Rude.

“You should’ve told me your plan days ago,” Jerome counters as he walks over to him and grabs his own glass. He doesn’t understand Jeremiah. They had been together their entire lives. Jerome had basically shared every thought he has ever had with ‘Miah (well, almost every thought), yet Jeremiah was always so secretive, “You can’t expect me to follow ya blindly.”

“You were always best with improvisation rather than following rules,” Jeremiah remarks thoughtfully, as if that were a proper answer. As if that didn’t make Jerome wanna slam him against the wall again.

“You’re right,” Jerome agrees, before slamming his cup onto the counter, making the liquid slosh from the force, “And now let me improvise this: if ya don’t tell me every detail of your plan, then I’m out. Have fun completing your plans without me.”

Jeremiah pauses. He looks at Jerome for a moment, almost as if he were trying to deduce if Jerome was bluffing or not. He takes a sip from his drink, then with grace, puts it down next to Jerome’s.

“Ask me anything,” Jeremiah tells him, and Jerome finally perks up.  _ Good _ .

“How did you get everyone to agree to the plan?” The last thing Jerome wanted was for them to turn on the twins. Ending up in GCPD lockup or Arkham truly sounded like hell on earth. 

“Every person we invited on the team has weak spots. I offered all of them what they want most. For Ecco it was a plan to bring her even more attention, for Tetch it was access to his sister’s GCPD file, for Crane it was his file completely wiped from the GCPD database, plus Tetch coming along helped,” Jeremiah begins to tell him, “They also all have things that they don’t want anyone to know about. Ecco’s mom is still alive and she’s protecting her, which is why she goes by Jane Doe. Tetch has a safehouse with important items that he would rather not lose. Jon’s secret recipe to his fear toxin.”

Jerome can’t help but be impressed. Jeremiah was terrifying when it came to collecting knowledge. How he found things out? Jerome had no idea but being a genius hacker probably helped. 

“Bruce Wayne has a weak spot too,” Jeremiah tells him as well but Jerome waves him off, causing Jeremiah to tilt his head in confusion.

“Don’t tell me. If I know too much I might give something away,” He had already messed up once with Bruce with the case file. He couldn’t give Bruce any information that could potentially implicate him. Then again.. he isn’t sure if that answer is entirely true. He didn’t want to take the easy way with Bruce. He liked the challenge. He wanted to figure the boy out himself. He enjoyed playing their little game. Jeremiah must suspect that he isn’t letting the whole truth out as well, if his eyes narrowing just a fraction is anything to go by.

“Once they all agreed, I told Ecco that her Maniax must give us a show of faith, to know that they are serious about accepting,” Jeremiah informs him.

“What exactly is this show of faith?” Jerome asks.

“I let her decide that. All I told her is that it better garner the attention of every person in Gotham.”

“As much as I love the drama,” Jerome tells him with a smirk, “Why let the GCPD on our tails this early on? Shouldn’t we be working in the shadows or whatever?”

Jeremiah gives him his classic bitch face, deciding now was the time to pick his drink back up for a swig, “The GCPD has no idea about us. They will just think the Maniax and Ecco are back. They won’t suspect an outside force yet.”

And there it is. Jerome should tell him now that he knows for a fact that the GCPD already knows. That Bruce Wayne himself, who their plan heavily relied on, knew about someone helping the Maniax as well. But he doesn’t. For once in his goddamn life, Jerome stays silent. He knows Jeremiah already suspects some sort of foul play regarding his involvement with Bruce, and he knows that Jeremiah might freak if he found out. Might freak to the point where he stops their entire plan, and reverts back to being a hermit in their maze of a home, a life that Jerome didn’t want to live anymore. He needed something more. He needed  _ this _ .

So, he stays silent.

-

When the morning comes following their eventful night, Jerome isn’t surprised to see Jeremiah up and about early in the morning. They don’t say much to each other. Jeremiah just walks to their living room and turns on their tv, Jerome hot on his heels. 

“ _ Beware, the images you are about to see are gruesome,”  _ The news anchor says, a sad look on her face before the screen changes to the picture. 

There’s a pile of bodies on the ground.

In blood, written next to them is the Maniax symbol, as well as three words that make Jerome smile with so much unfathomable joy.

**We Are Coming.**


End file.
